by Guy Johnson
“I don’t know about that,” Elizabeth demurred as they entered Diane’s apartment. “I met somebody. A real man.”
“Are you talking about that slick pretty boy who tried to force his attentions on us in the bar the other night? Damn! Can’t you learn from my mistakes? He’s probably nothing more than facade anyway!” Diane was stripping off her Spandex jogging suit. She stopped and faced Elizabeth and declared, “They are all sleazes! Why do you think black American women writers never have strong, positive black male characters in their work? There aren’t any, that’s why!”
Elizabeth sat down and untied her shoes then replied, “I don’t know that that’s true. I haven’t read every black woman writer—”
“I’m talking about the major ones! Naylor, Morrison, McMillan, Walker,” Diane interrupted as she stepped out of her panties. “Can you point to just one positive male character?”
“I don’t consider myself to be well read enough to give a knowledgeable answer to that question.”
“Think about it while I’m in the shower,” Diane said, picking up her workout clothes and heading into the bathroom.
Elizabeth went over to the stereo, turned the radio on, and tuned the station to KJAZ. The sounds of a quintet with a mellow lead alto saxophone floated out of the speakers. She walked over to the living room windows, which looked out upon the lake, and studied the view. She wondered if there wasn’t a grain of truth in Diane’s words. Perhaps Jackson wasn’t what he appeared to be, but the possibility that he was real was too great an opportunity for her to pass up. Certainly there was something between them. She had never felt such an attraction to anyone before. She had even noticed it when they first met at Wayman’s graduation ceremony. At first she had sought to discount her feelings as simply the response of a woman who had not been intimate with a man for over a year, but there was more to it than that and she knew it. This was a totally new feeling, a sensation of excitement.
Strange as it was, she was not distressed by the man who had followed them the day before on Angel Island, nor was she put off by Jackson’s explanation of his grandfather’s world. What she remembered most was the ease with which she bantered with him, how there seemed to be no obstacles in saying what was on her mind, how comfortable she had felt in his presence and the wonderful anticipation that she felt when they were parting at the end of the day. When he had walked her to her door there was an undeniable tension between them as she waited for him to decide whether he was going to kiss her. He had not kissed her and she, although she was reluctant to admit it at the time, was disappointed. She thought of his last words before he turned and went back to his car. He had stepped close to her and looked directly into her eyes and said, “It seems to me that this is no ordinary first date. I feel something for you, Miss Carlson, that I have no right to feel. It compels me to want to see you again. Is there a possibility you feel the same way?”
Despite her better judgment, she had grabbed the lapel of his jacket and pulled him closer until his dark brown eyes were inches from hers, then replied, “Anything is possible. Why don’t you call me and we’ll see?” He had smiled, his even white teeth gleaming in the afternoon light, then he touched her cheek softly with his hand before turning away and walking down the steps to his car. She had followed him with her eyes, the skin of her face still tingling from his caress. She had known right then that he was the one who was meant for her.
Diane entered the living room wearing a robe. “The shower’s yours,” she said as she got a large bottle of juice out of the refrigerator. “I put out towels on the toilet seat.”
When she got out of the shower, Elizabeth went into Diane’s bedroom and found her friend half dressed in front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror, checking out the fit of her skirt over her behind. She said, “That looks great on you, Diane. What are you doing?”
“I just want to make sure it still falls like it’s supposed to,” Diane answered as she turned in front of the mirror. “I want to make sure that the thousand leg lifts I do monthly are keeping me in trim.”
“No fear,” Elizabeth said as she began to get dressed. “You’ve got the body of a twenty-five-year-old!”
Diane frowned. “I look that bad?”
“That’s good!” Elizabeth countered. “To have the body of someone who’s a decade or more younger.”
“Honey, as hard as I work to keep in shape, I want the body of a teenager! Did you think about my question? Could you come up with a positive, strong black male character in any novel you’ve read? I mean, one who’s alive at the end!”
“Truthfully, I didn’t give it much thought.”
“You ought to. There’s a lesson there. As far as I’m concerned there’s only two reasons to have a man in your life: one, the dick is so good you want to give up TV; or two, he can give you expensive gifts and do something for you financially.”
“That’s very cynical,” Elizabeth observed with a laugh. “What about love?”
“Love is just a concept that some men thought up to mess with women’s heads.”
Elizabeth declared, “I don’t believe that. I know my mother loved my father and I know that he loved her. He was a good man and although I didn’t get along with him, I loved him. I’m seeking what they had. I know it’s still possible.”
Diane finished off her glass of juice then said, “Damn, girl, orient yourself to the times. This is 1982! Women have been liberated. Your parents lived at a time when people stayed married because they had to. They had to put up with shit and work out their differences. People today can get to stepping!”
“But where does that leave you?” Elizabeth countered. “Particularly when you know that everything of value takes work. And to have something of value, you must risk.”
“Okay. Okay. I can see that something serious has bit you in the ass. What makes this guy you’ve only seen twice so damned important? You haven’t even spent an hour together!”
“Oh, yes, we have,” Elizabeth declared as she put on her jacket. “I went to Angel Island yesterday with him and it was wonderful. It was the best time I’ve ever had with a man.”
“So that’s why you took off from work! Well, you better tell me about him, since I may see him once or twice before you scuttle him.”
“Don’t bet on it! It was like something out of a fantasy. I’ll tell you about it as we ride back to work. I have to be in court at two o’clock. Are you ready?” Diane nodded as she got her purse and turned off the stereo. The two women took the elevator down to the garage and got into Diane’s car. As they drove back to the district attorney’s office, Elizabeth recounted the events of the previous day.
When Diane pulled into her parking spot she was flabbergasted. “I can’t believe you slashed the tires of a stranger’s car! You’re supposed to uphold the law, not break it!”
“Jackson recognized this brown Cadillac and when the man in it started to follow us, we knew he was the partner of the guy we left on Angel Island. We didn’t want him following us. So while Jackson went and got us a couple of ice cream cones I doubled back and slit the guy’s tires. It’s really not that much different from the time you put sugar in that public defender’s gas tank. I think he had to get a new engine after that. All this guy had to do was change a couple of tires.”
Diane put a hand on her friend’s shoulder and her voice softened when she said, “I’ve known you since you were a police officer in San Francisco. I was the one who encouraged you to go to law school. I know how much you sacrificed to get your law degree and pass the bar. It took five years of your life. Even though you spent a wonderful day with this man, you really don’t know who he is. You don’t want to jeopardize your career for what could be a flash in the pan. He could be involved in drugs, organized crime, you don’t know!”
“Oh, come on, Diane! That’s a leap! He’s a deputy city manager!”
“No more a leap than Mayor Broadnax’s son. You heard how they found a hundred thousand in cash in the tru
nk of his car and how he pretended he didn’t know where it came from. There’s no way he wasn’t involved in drug dealing.”
“Leo Broadnax is sleazy. There’s a great deal of difference between him and Jackson Tremain.”
“You say that now, but you don’t really know. I didn’t know that Carl was seeing white women behind my back and I went out with him for nearly two years.”
Elizabeth looked at her watch and discovered it was twenty to two. “I’ve got to get back to the office and pick up my files before court.”
As they got out of the car, Diane persisted, “Don’t try to change the subject. You don’t know this man.” She and Elizabeth began to walk toward the exit of the parking garage.
Elizabeth said, “I love you and I care for you, but you and I don’t always share the same perspective on men.”
“That may be true. Unlike most women, I admit where I’m coming from. I intend to use men and get what I can. Most intelligent women come to the same conclusion. But let’s put that aside. You’re worrying me, and as a friend, I want to caution you. Don’t get your feelings involved until you’ve had a chance to see him over time. Anybody with a little cunning can act like something different for a little while. Time reveals everything. Hold up!” Diane stopped before the exit and pulled a mirror from her purse to check that her makeup and hair were properly done.
Two men dressed in suits entered the garage in deep discussion. One man was black, the other was white, and as they passed Elizabeth and Diane, the black man nodded to them. Diane ignored the greeting and stuck her arm in Elizabeth’s and kept on walking out the exit.
As they waited at the crosswalk for the signal to change, Diane said, “I heard from Marcie down in municipal court that the man we just passed is hung like a horse, but he uses it like a shovel. He just wants to dig-dig-dig. He knows nothing about giving a woman pleasure. Marcie said she couldn’t walk right for a week after bedding him.”
The signal turned to green. Elizabeth asked, “Who are we talking about?”
“That Negro who just walked by! You know Marcie wouldn’t be giving a white boy none. You know, if we could open a school that taught men how to be romantic and how to give pleasure to women, we could be millionaires within the year. Damn, if they could just learn to be romantic!”
“Sometimes, Diane, I think you actually hate men.”
“Girl, the only reason I don’t become a lesbian is that I don’t want to feel about women the way I feel about men. Plus, I’d have to have a partner who’d strap on one of those big plastic dildos. Because licking just don’t get it.”
“Diane, you really are crazy!” Elizabeth said with a laugh and soon both women were laughing. Once they were inside the courthouse, Diane saw a superior court clerk she needed to speak with. Elizabeth went on alone to her office to collect her files. When she opened the door, she saw on her desk a vase filled with calla lilies. Beside the vase was a brown bag containing a pastrami sandwich and a card. Elizabeth opened the card and read:
Ms. Carlson,
You said that today was going to be hectic and that you wouldn’t have time to pick up lunch. I bring these gifts as a small token of the pleasure and the delight that I experienced with you yesterday. I hope they evoke my image in your thoughts as your image lives in mine. I want to say more, but my thoughts are unruly; they stray from the task and center on you.
I look forward to seeing you again. I will wait a suitable period and then call you.
With all my good thoughts,
Jackson Tremain
“Oh, this man is truly slick,” Diane said as she stepped into the room. “He sent you flowers, did he? Is that his card?”
Elizabeth nodded and handed her the card. She was a bit breathless. With this small act, Jackson had done something that resonated within her. It filled her with anticipation of their next meeting.
“Hmm! I wonder how many times he’s written these words?” Diane asked sarcastically. “I think you’re going to need my help to keep this one at bay.”
Elizabeth frowned. She went over and took the card out of her friend’s hands and said, “I love you, but I don’t need any help. I’ll see you later.” She ushered Diane to the door.
“Damn, this is serious!” Diane declared as she went reluctantly through the door. “Girl, this is deep water. You have to remember that the current goes straight out to sea. No land in sight!”
Elizabeth pushed her friend out the door and closed it. She held the card to her chest a moment as she leaned against the door. A strange excitement suffused her. Her cheek tingled where Jackson had touched her. She went over to the desk and took a big bite out of the sandwich. Diane was right about being cautious. Still, Elizabeth had to take Diane’s advice with a grain of salt. Diane had no idea how to establish a constructive relationship with a man, nor did she have room in her life for one who was any more than a sugar daddy or a sex object.
Elizabeth finished her sandwich, picked up her files, and headed out of her office to the courtroom. She discovered she couldn’t keep the smile off her face.
Friday, June 25, 1982
The phone rang four times before Jackson picked up the receiver. “Good morning, city manager’s office.”
“May I speak to Mr. Tremain?” It was a male voice with a slight Mexican accent.
“Speaking,” Jackson answered.
“Diablito? That you?”
“It’s me, Cisco.”
“Can you talk?
“Sure, what’s up?”
“We’ve made arrangements for you to leave tonight. Are you ready?”
“Not really, but if that’s when you arranged it, I’ll do it. I’ve scheduled the time off.”
There was a pause then Reuben said in a quiet voice, “Nobody knows for sure if your grandfather will make it beyond the weekend. We’ve got your travel plans scheduled to the last detail. Nobody will be able to follow you.”
“Hey, there’s already somebody following me. Do you know who it is?”
“I don’t know. Maybe your grandfather knows. If not, others will know.”
“Before I go I have to have a number where I can receive faxes down there because I have some work due Monday morning. My assistant is coming in tomorrow morning and Sunday morning to finish the reports. I need to see finished copies before they go to the subcommittee.”
“Your people work on Sunday?”
“What can I tell you, one of the reports is on which solid waste management company should get the contract with the city.”
“Garbage is always political,” Reuben said knowingly.
The conversation was over as soon as Jackson got the number from Reuben. Jackson felt a strange anxiety. He felt the vortex of his grandfather’s world slowly pulling him down into its spinning center.
Friday, June 25, 1982
“Serena, what a surprise to hear your voice. I haven’t spoken with you in years and yet I still remember your wonderful elocution.”
“Let’s not waste each other’s time with useless flattery, Bill. My grandson, Franklin, came over here right after his lunch with you.”
“Oh, and what did the young man have to say for himself?”
“He said that you threatened him.”
“That just goes to show how perspectives may differ,” Braxton said easily. “I don’t recall that at all. I remember discussing options that involved his having total control of King, Inc.”
“Just how would you propose to do that when you have no legal financial investment in this company? I hope you don’t think that you have everyone in this family intimidated.” Serena’s words were clipped and pointed like pieces of tin cut by heavy shears.
“I’m a negotiator.” Braxton was all oil and Vaseline. “I discuss alternatives. I’d be happy to meet with you and talk over the options I discussed with Franklin, but I don’t think that’s necessary. I think that you already know the bottom line. Everyone knows that King is dying. He can no longer strike fear int
o people’s hearts. All debts are now due.”
“And what if we don’t cooperate with the payment of these alleged debts?”
“Life is so unpredictable. Did you realize that the insurance industry’s actuarial reports indicate that black people are far more prone to have accidents and be victims of violent crimes than whites? These statistics were collected for both men and women.”
There were a few seconds of silence before Serena asked quietly, “That’s your answer?”
“That’s my answer.”
“Given the statistics, how could anyone be assured that cooperation would result in a longer life?”
“Well, I don’t think that anyone can forestall the action of natural causes, but I think that we can rule out certain types of accidents and perhaps limit the potentiality of being victims of certain violent crimes.”
“So, you can point the finger at people and cause their demise?”
“Serena, Serena, you attribute to me too much power. I am a negotiator who’d be happy to present any proposal you have to the right people.”
“I had assumed that you contacted my grandson because you were seeking some specific help. I didn’t know that I was to come up with something.”
“I see; of course that makes sense.” Braxton coughed lightly and said, “The subject matter is rather sensitive and warrants a face-to-face meeting, don’t you think?”
“No.” Serena’s voice was cold. “If there are any options that are acceptable to me, they must be found during this conversation.” She would not further soil herself by meeting with him in person.
“Let’s get directly to business, then.”
“Let’s,” Serena agreed in a sarcastic tone.
“Well, Serena, your other grandson seems to be headed to Mexico. It would be extremely helpful to know exactly where he was going and how he could be reached.”
Serena knew they were hunting for King and that they would kill both King and Jackson if they could find them. Then they would force Franklin to accept whatever crumbs they decided to throw him.
